Cavorting in Covington

Car tag art worthy of our RV bus, the Dawntreader.

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."  So says the proverb meaning that without time off from work a person becomes bored and boring.  Yikes!  Never let it said that Tim and I are boring.  Consequently, in the interest of gaining some charisma, Tim and I packed some play into our stay in Covington, LA, the parish seat of St. Tammany Parish.  We've been temporary residents here for the past two weeks while we participated in building a home with Habitat for Humanity.

Although we climbed up and down ladders, carried beams and studs, and cut boards and posts on the construction site, those activities do not really qualify as aerobic exercise.  So we took to the Tammany Trace, a paved 31-mile trail that links five communities along the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain.  One weekend we walked six miles of the leafy trail from its origin at the old-fashion train depot in Covington before turning back to our start.  The next weekend we ambitiously biked 15 miles from the Mandeville train station through Fontainebleau State Park; then 15 miles back again.  Because I haven't biked since my second cochlear implantation surgery last March, Tim practically had to pry me off my bicycle seat.  But I felt both virtuous and victorious to have covered that section of the Trace.

What wasn't so virtuous was our stop at New Orleans Original Daiquiris, a chain of drive-through stands that serve up alcoholic frozen drinks.  I couldn't believe these shops were legal.  The state of Louisiana must not have an "open container" law.  But what the heck!  Tim ordered a strawberry daiquiris while I asked for a Mardi Gras Mash that we carried back to the Dawntreader to consume privately.

The Covington Three Rivers Art Festival, an extravaganza of music, food and art, was held while we were here.

Four blocks of Columbia Street in Covington's quaint downtown were blocked off while festival goers frolicked and took in all that the fair had to offer.

There were many pieces of art that I loved, but once again the RV rule by which I live is "If something comes in, something else must go out."  Dog gone it!

Attendance at the historic Christ Episcopal Church (the adjacent white clapboard chapel is Covington's oldest public building still in use) cannot be considered "cavorting," but our spirits were revived while worshipping there.  In fact, Rector Miller was a funny guy.  A rabid fan of the Houston Astros, he'd gone to games 5, 6 and 7 of the World Series in the prior week.

Still on the emotional high induced by their victory, he wore his Astros jersey over his cassock that morning.  Miller is a born storyteller and his viewpoint of Game 7 was especially entertaining.  However, the point of his sermon was that Christ came to earth to tell us that we could have life and have it abundantly.  There is a different way to play life's game and when we play the game His way, we may lose in the short term but we will be champions and will reign with Him for all eternity.  For the closing hymn, he asked us to sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" which the congregates did with great gusto.  Very amusing!  Miller's timely and timeless message was memorable.